


Queen of the Round Table

by uruvielnumenesse



Category: Dr. Strange - Fandom, King Arthur, daredevil - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, Jessica Jones - Freeform, Mentions of Luke Cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uruvielnumenesse/pseuds/uruvielnumenesse





	Queen of the Round Table

Because according to IMDB, there is no Guinevere in the new King Arthur movie. (none that I could see anyways). Also I headcanon Oscar Isaac as Doctor Strange

“You know, when I agreed to come on your adventure I didn’t expect to be stuck in the past.” Claire Temple huffed as a young servant girl tightened the laces of her gown. She frowned at herself in the mirror. Light green was not a flattering color on her.

The girl, used to the oddities of the nobles that frequented Camelot shook her head and bid the woman to stand straight.

Though, her reluctant friend-if she could actually call him that-was freaking AWOL with the magic mage of the millennia the Nurse knew somewhere Strange could feel her irritation. Honestly, the hispanic healer should have known better to agree to this adventure.

She was supposed to be done. After what happened with the Hand. After China.

But getting away from superheroes, away from the epic super love strength that was Luke and Jessica was what she needed. And if it meant putting up with the cocky doctor...she’d endure it.

But as luck would have it, he bounced after meeting the legendary Merlin leaving her to deal with the fallout. Claire likes to think that all of her complaints are reaching the cocky doctor even if he's on some magical journey.

Trying to walk with her breasts up to her chin and her back unnaturally straight, Claire almost missed the knock on the door. Before she was able to even turn, the servant was quick to open the heavy oak door.

A nervous page boy is there. He had the giant dragon emblem on his tunic, identifying his allegiance for all to see.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Claire was essentially a hostage in this situation, she would have get sympathy for him. But given the fact that his master was the biggest douchebag in history, the page boy did work for him of his own volition. 

“My lady, are you ready for dinner?” He dared not look at her eyes, fiery and foreign as her skin.

“I’m not hungry.” She sighed.

Her head was pounding, possibly from the lack of glucose in her system or the magical thing her friend did or the tightly but secured hair that flowed down her back. She was in no mood to go dine with his royal smugness or his hang ons.

The page boy seemed to vibrate in his anxiety and the brunette was almost successful in dramatically slamming the door in his face. Only another figure, one who immediately caused a scowl to grace her face, interfered with her mission.

“Everything to your liking, my lady?” His voice was deep and utterly British.

Hair tied back and facial hair groomed to please the courts, he had a far better appearance than from when they first met.

Then again, Claire’s own face was scrubbed pink and clean. 

Funny how looks differ when there’s no more mud and blood caked in every crevice. 

The only thing that stayed the same was the mighty sword that gleaned at his hip. As well as the blood red dragon on his chest.

“ ‘M not your lady.” The brunette stoutly ignored the shamed gasp that escaped both her maid and the page boy. She has no energy to care for dramatics. Never has.  
Defensively crossing her arms and slouching against the door in an unload like fashion, she waited for the King to speak.

“Aye, you and the Mage do not belong to any. As it stands, you are under my care until he returns with my Mage.” Her eyes did not, did not, follow the ripple of muscle as he too shifted.   
There’s a grin when the brunette deigns to look at Arthur’s face. Amused hazel eyes stare into put upon brown eyes.

“Of course Strange gets the adventure. And I get stuck with the Game of Thrones bullshit.” Claire mutters in Spanish. 

When Arthur, and Claire does guess that she really should call him King, offers his arm to her, she does take it will ill grace.

“Come now, Lady Guinevere. Camelot is sure to have adventures waiting here for you as well.” Too tired to act surprised, she can only purse her lips.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” The walk from her chambers to the Great Hall is longer than she expected.  
***  
The soot has been scrubbed clean off the walls, and banners carrying the sigils of the nobles that followed King Arthur in his war against the villainous Vortigern. Arthur is keen to point out how the restoration of his father’s castle is going.

One thing, Arthur’s reign had going for him was how beloved he was by the people. For every step they took, they stopped for several moments for someone to come and speak to him about this or that.

It was really beautiful to see his grin turn into a blinding smile. Claire was sure that her heart wasn’t the only one palpating. The sighs that followed his trail weren’t imaginary.

Judging by the Arthur’s smile became more fixated and her arm is pulled closer to his body, the out of time woman knows that he heard the fawning as well.

“Not a fan of the swooning ladies, my lord?” She ventures forth to tease. “What would your knights say of this?”

“To stay clear of vipers found under flowers I imagine.” Arthur replies. 

Claire likes to think that it was Sir Galahad the most virtuous of the knights who said that. The man was very flowery with his words. Something like a poet. Out of all of them, he was her favorite.

The only part of their friendship that faced some discord was the guilt she felt at using a fake name in this time. To her knowledge, and Strange’s there was no mention of them in the legends. And Guinevere was nowhere to be seen. 

The good doctor valued safety over protecting the integrity of the legends. 

And Claire totally agreed.

She was sure that the real queen wouldn’t mind her taking the name.

All she had to do, Claire allowed the king to escort her to her seat, was pick up where Claire left off.


End file.
